The Ballad of Serenity
by Elma MacBetsy
Summary: A series of ficlets to fit with Firefly's theme song
1. Take My Love Inara

**Disclaimer: I don't own Firefly**

**This is going to be a series of ficlets to go with the Ballad of Serenity. Following this one, they should be chronological, and only this one will be in two parts.  
**

**Take My Love**

**(Inara's POV)  
**

I stormed back to my shuttle, Mal hot on my heels.

"You are impossible!" I called behind me. He sped up.

"Now hold on just one minute, 'Nara. I ain't the one pickin' the fight!" I turned and glared at him.

"No? Because that's certainly what it sounded like back there!" I started walking again, desperate to get away from the man in front of me. I didn't want to get any angrier than I was. Our evening meal had been pleasant, for once. Jayne had even refrained from insulting Simon. But afterwards, once the others had left, Kaylee had wanted my advice.

************

"'_Nara, you know about men and stuff." She'd started. I smiled encouragingly. "I just… With Simon… Inara, how can I get him to…notice…me?"_

"_Kaylee, you've had your fair share of romance, haven't you? You must know something about attracting men." She shrugged._

"_Yeah, but…Simon ain't like any of them. He's…he's from the central planets…and he's a doctor. Girls he knew must have been something, right? And I'm just…me." She finished softly. I reached out and took her hand across the table._

"_Give yourself more credit, Kaylee. Simon likes you, anyone can see that. Just give him time. Men can be stupid sometimes." I glanced over at Mal, who was leaning against the wall in the next room. "Well, all the time, actually." We both laughed._

"_But seriously, 'Nara. There's gotta be something I can do. Can you at least tell me how to...how to be a proper girl? Elegant and such?" I immediately started thinking over what I could teach Kaylee. I was always eager to help her. _

"_Don't bother Kaylee." My head snapped up as Mal came in. "You're better than him anyway. A boy like him's not gonna want someone without his high class schooling and perfect upbringing, so save your time." Kaylee shot him a hurt look, one that he apparently failed to notice, and ran out of the room. I was torn, wanting to comfort Kaylee but also wanting to deal with the jackass in front of me._

"_How could you say that to her Mal?" He frowned, looking honestly confused._

"_What?" That was all I could take. With a frustrated groan, I turned on my heel and left the room._

************

"I didn't mean nothin' by it!" Mal defended himself.

"Yes you did, Mal." I stopped, finally within the safety of the shuttle, and leaned against the wall.

"I just don't want to see her getting hurt." I looked at him. For the first time in our arguments, he seemed like he honestly wanted to make peace, especially since he really didn't know what we were arguing about. But, as it had in the kitchen, his ignorance only served to annoy me further.

"She is in _love_ with him Mal! Do you understand that?!" I sighed. "No, of course you don't. You aren't capable of feeling anything that genuine!" Neither of us said anything for a few moments, me embarrassed by my outburst, him seemingly contemplative.

"I was in love once." He finally said, softly. That stopped me in my tracks. I stared at him. Was I going to discover some new piece of the puzzle that was Captain Malcolm Reynolds? I stood silently, scared that any sound, even my breathing, would stop him from saying what he was thinking. "A long time ago, admittedly, but I remember well enough." He moved and sat down on me bed. Slowly, I followed suit.

"It ended badly," I guessed, realising why he was so against Kaylee and Simon's slowly growing relationship, and why he had been so against Wash's and Zoe's before, or so I'd heard. He shrugged.

"Everything ended badly then." The war, I guessed. I sometimes wished that he would come to me and tell me all about his past and the war. But other times, I wondered if it was really something I wanted to know. "It was back on Shadow. Her family had a ranch down the street from ours. We spent all our time together back when we were kids." I briefly considered taking his hand. But Mal didn't often respond positively to physical affection like that. "She had light brown hair, and the sweetest laugh in the whole 'verse, and…"

"And you loved her." I finished quietly. He glanced over at me.

"Yes. But I already told you that." I smiled faintly at him. He was quiet for several seconds.

"What happened?" I blurted out, before I could stop myself. He seemed unsurprised.

"The war." His expression turned grim. "She cried the day I left. She made me promise to come back to her, said she'd wait as long as it took.

"But she didn't," I guessed again. He looked away from me.

"I don't know." He confessed. "I never went back." I recoiled from him instantly, my imaginings of her infidelity and his heart break disappearing.

"You-" I couldn't even finish my sentence. I stared at him. He carried on like I hadn't said anything.

"Didn't make a lot of difference, anyway. Shadow didn't last the war."

"How…" I struggled to find the right question. "If it had," I finally began, "would you?"

"I changed in that war. I guess you knew that." I nodded; I'd been told that before. "I don't know if it was for better or worse. But there was _nothing_ left of me. Not a gorram thing." I was stunned by the ease with which he could tell me all of this. I'd always thought that he would deny that he'd been that affected. "I knew that at the time. That's why I never wanted to go back to the old life. Folks I knew who did couldn't keep it together." He paused. "I let them think I was dead. What was one more casualty?" He laughed bitterly. Then his expression turned more serious. "Things might've turned out differently if they…if Shadow had survived. Maybe it would have been easier, knowing she was…happy. But I still wouldn't've gone back."

"Oh, Mal…" I sighed. He shrugged.

"Don't really matter, I guess. But…" He hesitated. "I wanted you to know that…" He shrugged again. "I just wanted you to know." I suddenly felt the need to do something, _anything_, to comfort him. I gripped his hand as tight as I could.

"Mal, if you ever need to talk… I'm here." He didn't say anything as he slowly extracted his hand from my grip. He stood up and headed to the door, turning his head slightly as he reached it.

"Thanks, 'Nara. But there isn't anything to say." He left then, and I leaned back on my bed. I hadn't expected him to take me up on my offer, of course. As happy as I was that he'd chosen to share something with me, I wasn't stupid enough to believe that it changed anything. Tomorrow we'd be at each other's throats again, insulting each other without a second thought. But as painful, as devastating as it was, as much as I knew I couldn't begin to understand it…I desperately wanted to discover Malcolm Reynolds' past.


	2. Take My Love Mal

**Second part**

**Take My Love**

**(Mal's POV)**

"I didn't mean nothin' by it!" This was by far the most infuriating argument I had ever got into with Inara. I didn't have any idea why exactly she was so angry. I knew she objected to what I'd said to Kaylee, but I couldn't figure out why.

"Yes you did, Mal." The minute she was inside her shuttle she leant against the wall. I tried to think of the right thing to say. I hadn't intended in getting into an argument tonight, not when dinner had gone so well, and I was determined to put a stop to this.

"I just don't want to see her getting hurt." I figured that was the sort of thing that might appeal to Inara. And it was true. I hated seeing Kaylee so downtrodden when her attempts to woo Simon went ignored. I could see that the doc wasn't oblivious to her, but he had other things going on in his life right now. I could understand that, but Kaylee needed to realise it before she got her heart broken.

"She is in _love_ with him Mal! Do you understand that?!" I opened my mouth to defend myself but she answered for me. "No, of course you don't. You aren't capable of feeling anything that genuine!" She spat. For once, I was really taken aback. And hurt. I knew I wasn't always the most caring person, but I never thought that Inara saw me like that. Then, even though I never cared what anyone else in the 'verse thought of me, I suddenly needed to prove to Inara that I wasn't as unfeeling as she thought because I couldn't stand her thinking badly of me.

"I was in love once." I muttered. I instantly regretted it. This was _not_ the right story to tell her. Surely it would only reinforce her current opinion of me. But I couldn't stop now, or else I was sure she'd press me for the information. "A long time ago, admittedly, but I remember well enough." I sat down on the bed tiredly. I hadn't thought about her in such a long time. My Leah. Not that I could call her that anymore.

"It ended badly," Inara spoke up. It wasn't a question. I shrugged. She wasn't entirely right, but I would get to that later.

"Everything ended badly then." I pointed out instead. And not just for me. So many people had had lost their lives because of that war. Even the ones that didn't die. "It was back on Shadow." I told her, carrying on with the story. I didn't want to linger on memories of the war. "Her family had a ranch down the street from ours. We spent all our time together back when we were kids." A small smile graced my face as I remembered several long, hot summers spent playing by the river, riding horses all over the place and just being together. "She had light brown hair, and the sweetest laugh in the whole 'verse, and…" I swallowed. Remembering her was harder than I'd thought it would be. She was just so damn perfect. Everything about her. I couldn't think of anyone more beautiful. Except for possibly Inara, but then that was her job.

"And you loved her." Inara finished the sentence that I realised I'd left hanging.

"Yes. But I already told you that." She smiled at me, and I hoped that she realised how grateful I was that I hadn't had to say the words again. I sat in silence, wondering how best to continue.

"What happened?" Inara suddenly asked after a few more seconds. I had expected her to, though. The people on my ship always seemed desperate to hear about my past, although I couldn't for the life of me think why.

"The war." The one that every gorram thing came back to. For so much of my life, that war had been the cause of everything. As much as it hurt to, I held onto it for a long time. Too long, really, but even now I still didn't know how to let go. "She cried the day I left," I remembered. I always hated seeing her cry. After the first time, when we were still only children, I'd sworn to myself that I would do everything I could to not let it happen again. But I'd failed at that miserably. "She made me promise to come back to her, said she'd wait as long as it took."

"But she didn't," Inara guessed, again not a question. But now I would have to correct her. This was the part that I was dreading, the part that would cement her image of me as the bad guy.

"I don't know." I told her. I looked away, not wanting to see her reaction to this. "I never went back." I felt the bed move as she pulled herself away from me.

"You-" She started to say, then stopped. I was glad. I wasn't sure I could take the accusation she had been prepared to throw at me.

"Didn't make a lot of difference, anyway. Shadow didn't last the war." I remembered clear as day finding that out. I never really got a chance to miss it though. By the time I was told, I'd already seen too much destruction. It didn't affect me anymore.

"How…" She began, then after a few seconds she decided on: "If it had, would you?" No, was the short answer to that question. But I needed her to understand this better than that.

"I changed in that war. I guess you knew that." She could hardly not know. The war changed everyone and everything it touched. "I don't know if it was for better or worse. But there was _nothing_ left of me. Not a gorram thing." I hoped I didn't sound as bitter as I felt. I had, on occasion, reached out to the man I used to be. But it felt awkward, clumsy. It never worked out. I glanced at Inara. I knew what she was thinking. People always expected people like me to be in denial of what happened to them. And some people did, it was true. But I was sure that it was worse to know exactly what had changed inside of you. Because the people that ignored it never had to see how empty they were. "I knew that at the time. That's why I never wanted to go back to the old life. Folks I knew who did couldn't keep it together. I let them think I was dead. What was one more casualty?" I laughed humourlessly, quickly sobering. "Things might've turned out differently if they…if Shadow had survived. Maybe it would have been easier, knowing she was…happy. But I still wouldn't've gone back." I had to make that abundantly clear. I didn't want to have revealed so much about my past only to give her the impression that it was full of happiness and misunderstanding.

"Oh, Mal…" I heard Inara whisper. I stiffened slightly. I didn't want pity from her.

"Don't really matter, I guess." I shrugged it off. "But… I wanted you to know that…" That years ago I was a nice guy? That it's not my fault I'm a bitter empty shell? What had I wanted when I started telling her this story? "I just wanted you to know." That would have to do. And as I said it, I realised it was true. I wanted her to understand, just a little bit, so that maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't end up hating me someday.

She suddenly grabbed my hand tightly.

"Mal, if you ever need to talk… I'm here." I gently removed her hands from me. I could have broken her grip easily, but I didn't want to hurt her. I stood up and headed to the door. As I reached it, I hesitated, wondering what it would be like to share myself completely with another person like that? Zoe knew almost everything. But she was almost as broken as I was. How much support could we really give each other?

"Thanks, 'Nara. But there isn't anything to say." No, I wouldn't drag Inara into it. Although she wasn't nearly as naïve as I pretended to believe, she could never imagine the carnage I'd seen, and I wanted to keep it that way.


	3. Take My Land

**Take My Land**

Mal was surprised when he was shaken awake. A glance out of the window told him that it was much earlier than usual; the sun hadn't even risen yet.

"Malcolm! Wake up, boy!" He looked the other way and saw his ma leaning over him, a hand on his shoulder.

"Ma?" He frowned. "What's going on?" He sat up slowly then moved so that his feet were hanging over the edge of the bed.

"Nothing's going on. We're heading into town first thing this morning is all, so you need to wash up nice and put on your good clothes." Mal was still confused, but he knew not to argue with his ma, so he nodded and stood up, heading to the small chest of drawers in the corner of his room. Satisfied that he was up and about, his ma left him to change.

Ten minutes later, he was downstairs lacing his boots. His ma was bustling about the place, occasionally coming over to him to straighten his collar or make sure his shirt was properly tucked in.

"You ready?" She asked. He nodded and they both headed out the door to begin the two mile walk into town.

The town square was busy, much more so than he would've imagined for this time in the morning. And, as he looked more closely, he realised that he didn't recognise a lot of the people here today. In fact, there was a whole group of people, mainly young men, standing together in the middle, none of whom he'd ever seen before. His ma approached one of them, appraising him quickly.

"Good morning, ma'am." He greeted. He was polite, but sounded very tired. Mal's ma gave him a small smile.

"Morning." She looked him over once more. "What's your story?"

"Just came from Hera." He answered, still politely. Mal's ma gave him a sympathetic look.

"Alliance?" The young man's face hardened.

"Came in and threw us off our own ranch, no warning no nothing! My ma and sisters've got nothing left. Me and my father left home to try and find new work." Mal's ma looked briefly at Mal, before asking in a lowered voice:

"Is it that bad out there?" Mal frowned. He could still hear her. What was the point of even bothering to hide whatever it was she was saying if she wasn't even going to do it properly? The young man grimaced and then nodded.

"Those Purplebellied hwoon dans think that they can just come in and take what they want, your land, your homes, your food... They tell the folks at the core that they've worked out business deals with farmers on the rim, but they come in all guns a-blazing. We just ain't got the kind of fire power needed to fight them off." Mal's ma nodded understandingly.

"Well, I think we've got room for a fella like you on our ranch. We can give you room and board. We're a couple o' miles down that way," she gestured to the west, "so you just come and find us." The man shook her hand.

"Thank you. Truly, thank you." Mal and his ma moved around the group. They spoke to six or seven more of them, and the each one had some story or another to tell about the Alliance throwing them out of their homes and onto the streets. Each time, his ma would speak about it in the same lowered voice, and each time it wasn't quiet enough for Mal not to hear it.

By the time they arrived home, it was close to lunchtime. As he was sat in the kitchen, watching his ma prepare their meal, he started to ask the questions that had been bothering him all day.

"Ma?" She moved her head slightly in his direction, indicating that she'd heard.

"Who were all those people?"

"New workers," she replied easily. "People need jobs, Malcolm." He frowned.

"What were they all talking about? I mean, why was the Alliance making them leave?" His ma froze, the hand with a knife in pausing above the loaf of bread she was cutting.

"How'd you hear that? Were you eavesdropping, Malcolm?" He shook his head earnestly.

"No ma, honest. I couldn't help hearin', is all." She sighed and gently put the knife down on the cutting board before walking over and kneeling before him.

"What do you know about the Alliance, Malcolm?" He shrugged. He only really knew what he'd overheard his ma saying.

"They control the core." He thought back to what he'd heard about them at school one time. "They have really good technology, like guns and medicine and stuff."

"The Alliance want to control more planets, Malcolm. Only those that are willing, mind you." She told him, though she didn't sound all that convinced as she said the second part. "But the real trouble is that on the fancy core planets, the ones with the guns and the medicine and stuff," she smiled as she quoted him, "they don't have any space for ranches and farms and the like." Mal frowned.

"But then don't all the people go hungry?" He felt bad for them. Sometimes if he was really bad, he was sent to bed without his supper and he was really hungry all night. He certainly wouldn't like to feel like that all the time. His ma shook her head.

"They trade, son. People on other planets sell them food. 'Cept…not everyone wants to trade with them. Some folks like to keep their business on their own planets." She paused, as if considering how to phrase something. "The Alliance don't want people to starve, Malcolm. And they…they care more about folks on the core than they do about those on the rim, just like we might care more 'bout what happens on Shadow." Mal nodded; he could understand that. "So…sometimes, to keep people full, they get food other ways." Mal's eyes lit up.

"Do they have fancy machines that make food? I saw 'em in one of them old films once!" His ma laughed.

"No Malcolm. Sometimes they take food from people who don't want to give it. You understand?" Mal considered it, then considered what he'd heard other people saying earlier.

"They…they take people's land away from them. And use it to grow their own food." His mother smiled at him proudly, reaching up a hand to ruffle his hair.

"Smart boy." Her expression turned seriously. "Yes, that's right. But you see that they got no call to be doing that? That it's folks' own choice whether they want to sell their goods or not. A lot of innocent people are going hungry because they don't got their homes and jobs anymore." Mal frowned again, this time angry.

"But ma, how can the Alliance do that to people?" His ma rested a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't understand it my own self." She stood up. "Sometimes in the 'verse, people do bad things. And it's terrible and sad, Malcolm. But you gotta understand that sometimes even the most cruel people have good intentions."

"So do the Alliance have good inten…intentions?" He pronounced the word slowly, unfamiliar with it. He didn't really know what it meant, but he wanted his ma to talk to him like a grown up more often, and grown ups understood big words. She shook her head.

"I don't know Malcolm. Only time will tell, I s'pose." She looked past him and out the window, staring up at the sky. "Only time will tell."


	4. Take Me Where I Cannot Stand

**Next line! Thanks for reading**

**Bytemite: As you can see, 'Take My Land' is just going to be a single chapter. I only did 2 for the first one because I saw it as an introduction. But don't worry - I'm not going to leave out such an important part of Mal's history.  
**

**Take Me Where I Cannot Stand**

I'd been eighteen when news of the war first came to Shadow. 'Course, nothing had been confirmed then. It was just a bunch of talk from the recently formed Outer Rim Council. They said that the Alliance was looking to take over the whole 'verse, unite them under one rule. No one paid too much mind to it. The Alliance weren't doing no good, that much was certain, but they hadn't given us any reason to think they were going to launch a formal invasion, so why be presumptuous? But we couldn't stop our silent hope from building up, some folk hopeful for the chance to be a part of the Alliance, with their 'superior' way of living, others at the chance to finally stand up for themselves and show the Alliance that our 'primitive' planets weren't as useless as they thought. But no one really wanted war. Not really. So most everyone forgot about it after a few months.

When I was almost twenty, the Alliance started closing in on the planets closest to the centre. They started building bases there, implementing their laws. They'd taken over half of the Outer Rim before we even noticed what was happening. It was then that the Council gave us the same call as before. We needed an army, they said. To stop the oppression, they said. Every able bodied man or woman was to fight. I didn't give it a second thought, signing my name up immediately. I was determined to do right by the people on the Outer Rim, and I'd long since decided that the Alliance couldn't bring 'right' to anywhere.

It was only later, when I returned to our ranch, that it occurred to me what I'd agreed to do. And more importantly, just who it would affect.

My ma was concerned for me, as I knew she would be. But she respected my decision, and I knew that had she been in my place she would've made the same choice. But when I stepped out of our house and looked at the ranch across the road, I felt sick. I'd promised Leah forever so many times. How could I do this to her now? I hoped she'd understand; I knew she felt as I did about the Alliance.

I walked over the road slowly. Leah was waiting for me in front of her house, as she always was.

"Mal!" She ran towards me when she saw me, wrapping her arms around me immediately. I returned her hug and pressed a light kiss to the top of her head.

"Leah." I pulled away from her and took her hand, leading her over to the bench on the veranda. "Leah…" I began as I sat down. "Leah, you heard what they're saying the Alliance is gonna do, right?"

"Yeah, 'course I have. Why-" She suddenly stiffened. "Oh no, Mal. You didn't. Please, tell me you didn't" My Leah knew me too well.

"Leah, I have to," I told her softly. She pulled her hand out of mine and stood up.

"You listen here, Malcolm Reynolds! You don't _have_ to do anything! There's more than enough folk wanting to fight the Alliance! You don't got to be one of them! This is only about what _you_ _want_!" I stood up and went to her, placing a hand on her cheek.

"Leah, you know I do. You know I can't just stay here, just watching as folks I know die out there, die _for_ me. You know that," I pleaded with her. She shook her head.

"It don't gotta be you, Mal." She repeated. "Please. Please don't go. I couldn't stand it if-if you…" She looked at the ground, playing with the fabric of her dress nervously.

"I have to make a stand, Leah. I have to stand for what's right. I want to protect you, and my ma, and all the others here on Shadow who deserve to be free! I can't do that here." Her head snapped back up to face me, fury in her eyes.

"You can't very well do it if you're lying in a ditch someplace, riddled with Alliance bullets, either! What's that standing for, Mal?! That's just death, useless, horrible death!" I put my hands on her face again, gently wiping away the tears that were starting to fall from her eyes.

"Not everyone dies in war, Leah. You get survivors." She shook her head.

"I seen ex-soldiers, Mal. They're scarred, outside and in. I couldn't bear to see you that broken." She whispered.

"I'll be careful," I promised. "I'm making a stand," I reminded her. "I ain't letting them beat me that easily." She put both her hands over mind on her face.

"You can't make a stand in battle, Mal. You'll be too busy just surviving. All that's gonna happen is I'm going to lose you for nothing." I leant my forehead against hers.

"You're not ever gonna lose me. Whatever happens, wherever I go, you'll always have me." I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her to me. She leant her head against my shoulder.

"When do you leave?" She asked quietly.

"Tomorrow," I breathed. "In the morning." They weren't wasting any time with us. They wanted the first wave of troops out as soon as possible to set up bases and defences.

"Oh, God…" She whispered. She looked up at me. "Promise you'll come back to me, Mal. Promise." I swallowed. I knew that wasn't a promise I could necessarily keep. I hated lying to her…

"I promise. I'll come home as soon as I can."

"I'll wait as long as it takes," she swore. "Even if it's the rest of my life, I'll wait for you." She leaned up and pressed her lips to mine. I tightened my arm around her waist, pulling her closer to me as she looped her arms around my neck. It was a passionate kiss, one filled with all the sadness, hope and love that we could never begin to put into words. Leah finally pulled away. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too, forever and ever," I told her. I brushed her lips with mine once more before finally moving away from her, allowing my fingers to link briefly with hers before I turned away from her for the last time.


	5. I Don't Care

**I Don't Care**

I glanced over my shoulder to check that the sergeant was still behind me. He was young, a natural soldier maybe, but still new to this. He was still in his first year of fighting, after all. He outranked me, but he'd recognised my experience right from the start and we had an unspoken agreement between us that, for the time being, he wanted my opinion before he took any major actions.

He was shivering slightly – it was the middle of winter and we were already soaked through from the rain that had come earlier in the evening – but a small smile remained on his face. Even this far into the war, even after all the people I knew he'd seen die, that smile rarely left his face. I'd seen it before, the expression of a naïve boy living his dream. Except I knew Malcolm Reynolds had never dreamt of war before he got here. He only dreamt of doing the right thing, of standing for justice. It hurt to think that he was going to lose that, if not today then the next day or the next. A smile like that couldn't last long out here.

I had seen it happen in the past. Perhaps it would be the first time a bullet found a soldier he'd gotten too close to. Perhaps it would be the first time a bullet found him. Perhaps it would be tonight, when the weather finally got too much for him. He had grown up on Shadow, after all, a planet that had never seen a real winter.

"You wanna stop here for the night, sir?" Mal paused for a minute. We'd been separated from the rest of our unit the day before after an Alliance ambush and were about halfway back to where we were guessing they'd be.

"Probably not. They'll be wanting to know where we are about now." He shivered again. "Plus it's a mite cold tonight. Man could fall asleep and never wake up in this weather." I agreed with him. I couldn't help but feel proud that he'd made the right call without my input. He was a fast learner. We set off at a fast pace again, this time with Mal closer to my side than behind me.

About a half an hour later, he stiffened next to me, firing a shot into the darkness before I could say anything.

"Sniper," he explained. I nodded once and we carried on our a journey. Only a couple of minutes passed before I caught a small movement out of the corner of my eye.

"I don't think he was alone." I muttered. Mal glanced over at where I was looking. His eyes widened as he realised what I had. He turned and, grabbing my hand, ran past the outcrop of rock to the side of us. He hesitated just for a second then, clearly trying to decide whether to take cover or to keep on running.

But it was a second too long. The troop of Purplebellies we'd come so close to had caught up to us quickly, guns raised. I immediately grabbed my own weapon and returned their fire, crouching down behind the rock as I did so. It was only then that I realised Mal hadn't even got as far as reaching for his weapon. He was lying on his back on the ground, gasping for air as blood poured from the wound in his side. I couldn't let myself be distracted though and I swiftly returned to the fight.

There hadn't been as many soldiers as I'd thought, and I was guessing they must have been fairly new additions to the army as I took them out with relative ease. They hadn't even been aiming their guns at me properly. After one more look at the surrounding area to make sure we were alone, I ran to Mal's side.

"Sir? Sir!" I fell to my knees next to him. "Mal?!" I pressed my fingers to the side of his throat, breathing a sigh of relief as I felt a pulse there, albeit a slow one. "Mal?" I whispered. I wasn't sure what to do, for almost the first time in my military career. I didn't know where the nearest Independent base was, and even if I did I had no way of getting him to it. As I pulled off my jacket and pressed it to his wound, I could only hope that the cold would stop the blood from flowing long enough for him to still be alive in the morning.

I stayed vigil over the sergeant all night, checking his pulse and wound every few minutes. I was glad to see that, as the sun rose, he was still breathing, even if it was laboured. A sudden rustling in the undergrowth caught my attention. I cocked my gun and pointed it at that direction.

A group of five soldiers emerged from the bush; all wearing the same familiar brown coats, I was relieved to see.

"Corporal Alleyne?" The closest man asked. I nodded. He inclined his head towards the sergeant. "That Sergeant Reynolds with you?" I nodded again.

"He's been shot, Private. How far are we from base?"

"'Bout a couple of miles." I nodded and gestured for the other four soldiers to get Mal. They picked him up gently; I tried not to wince as even that movement caused him to moan.

**************

I was granted a few days leave after that. I spent as much of it as possible by Mal's side. I knew it was stupid to form attachments like this in a war, but there was something about Mal. You couldn't _not_ be his friend.

He'd been unconscious for the last two days since his operation. The wound had been slightly more serious than I'd guessed, and he'd had to have a major cluster of nerves moved to prevent paralysis. A quick glance over his exposed torso told me that it would be his first scar. That was always the worst one.

"Zoe?" My eyes snapped to his, now open. "Are you ok? Did they get you?" I shook my head.

"I'm fine sir." He nodded, and then lifted his arms in an attempt to stretch them out. He winced at the movement, and his eyes fell to the white square on his skin.

"How bad?" He asked.

"Now too bad," I reassured him. "They had to move a nerve cluster." I told him after a second of hesitation. I knew from experience that it was a painful feeling to know the war had cause such a permanent physical change in you. If he made it out of the fighting alive, he'd have to relive the moment every time he looked in the mirror, from now until the day he died.

"Zoe?" He said again. I looked at his face, his brow pulled together in a frown. "Zoe, we're not coming out of this alive, are we?" I tried not to look disappointed at his apparent pessimism.

"We're still alive now," I pointed out.

"But not unmarked." His hand unconsciously moved to the bandage on his side.

"No," I agreed. "Not unmarked." He seemed to be mulling something over in his head. I waited practically on the edge of my seat to see if he had finally lost the spark that kept him going.

"I don't care," he finally said. "I don't care." I tried not to feel too relieved as he said this. It was, as I'd thought before, only a matter of time.

************

He repeated that often throughout the rest of the war. Each time he took a hit, each time anyone else took a hit, each time the winter was too cold, each time there wasn't enough food, each time we buried the bodies of friends. And each time he said it, there was less and less stubborn refusal to give in, and more and more cold neutrality, until one day there was nothing left of the farm boy with a dream, and only the cynical war veteran that I was now all too familiar with.


	6. I'm Still Free

**I hoped this worked out ok. I wanted to try a different style, except I'm not really sure about this. Sometimes I read it and think it's pretty good, but sometimes I read it and think it's a bit stupid.**

**I'm Still Free**

The first week of battle, and it's all going well. A sergeant is the perfect position for him to have. Enough men to lead, but still plenty to follow.

The Alliance thinks it can just waltz through this little valley here on Hera and win the war, simple like.

They'll prove those Purplebellies wrong. Every last one of them.

The Browncoats have an ace up their sleeve. Air squadrons, ready to join the fray at a moments notice. Purplebellies won't know what's hit 'em.

Those grown up on the rim know what real independence feels like.

They won't give up being free that easy.

***

Second week of battle, and it occurs to him that he just isn't cut out to lead the now two thousand soldiers that follow him.

He doesn't have this sort of training; he's not an officer.

Too many dead so soon in the battle.

He's failing them, already.

But he can't dwell on that, 'cause he's got hundreds more wanting to live another day.

***

Third week of battle, and he holds onto his faith as tightly as he can.

One hundred more dead.

He has to believe they've reached someplace better.

He has to believe that that someone had a bigger plan for them.

He has to believe that he's doing something right in this battle.

He needs to believe that his God thinks the same.

***

Fourth week of battle, and he decides the worst thing he's ever smelt is burning flesh.

Two hundred thrown in the fire.

The living don't have the time or energy for grave digging.

He sees a man take a laser to the face.

Skin sears to bone; eyes, nose and mouth melt shut.

Dies screaming, but nobody can hear.

Nobody ever hears.

***

Fifth week of battle, and there's rumours of surrender. The Independence officials have given up, people say.

He feels equal parts betrayal and relief, until he realises the war's not over yet.

No one's coming for them. No one's told them to leave.

The Alliance don't stop shooting, so neither do they.

The fighting must continue down to the last man standing.

***

Six weeks into battle, and his patience is wearing thin.

Of the three hundred more lost, he's sure that some could have been saved, if the gorram air squadrons had ever shown.

Excuse after excuse was all they could offer.

The sky belongs to the Alliance now.

They can't ever hide from the sky.

***

The final week of battle, and everybody's dying.

But the Alliance aren't the ones killing them.

Their help isn't coming. The rumours were true.

There's no one left to blame, so he turns to the one he trusted to help.

Except if He caused this to happen, then the Browncoats are fighting on the wrong side.

He can't believe that, so he denounces all belief.

Except that they'll never be free again.


End file.
